Liberty Belle by Patricia Pacjac Carroll

Author:Patricia Pacjac Carroll [Carroll, Patricia Pacjac]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Christian Books & Bibles, Literature & Fiction, Historical, Westerns, Religious & Inspirational Fiction, Religion & Spirituality, Christian Fiction
ISBN: 9780982067345
Google: ChppLwEACAAJ
Amazon: B0086WMFES
Publisher: PacJac Publishing
Published: 2012-05-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Libby clung to the side of the tilted buggy and stared at the muddied road threatening to pull them down.

Harley, almost standing, leaned away from her, shouting and yanking on the reins, but the carriage continued its slide, spraying muck into the air.

Libby braced herself.

The big bay that had stumbled regained his footing and leaned into the harness. With a hard jolt, the carriage righted itself and with a bounce landed on all four wheels.

“Whoa, you sons,” Harley commanded. The horses slowed to a walk.

She eased her fingers from the iron bar supporting the seat, and after a few breaths, she looked behind her. Flora had Mark snug in her arms.

Even though her aunt’s face was drained white, she managed a smile. “We’re fine. That was close.”

Harley cleared his throat. “Sorry, I hadn’t counted on the road turning to mud so quickly. Everyone all right?”

Libby studied the man. Despite his rude behavior, he did have a heart. She leaned back to escape the stinging raindrops. “We’re fine. You did an excellent job of keeping us from tipping over.”

The gambler frowned. “I should have driven slower. Felt bad you and the others were getting wet. ... To tell the truth, I don’t know why we didn’t roll over.”

“Hey!” A voice called from behind.

At the sound of sloshing steps, Libby turned just as Wade came to her side. He was soaking wet, out of breath, and a welcome sight. He put his hand next to hers. “Are you all right? I thought for sure you were going to roll over.”

Harley cleared his throat. “Mr. Calder, I suggest we take this up at the saloon. We’re soaked and freezing.” Not waiting, the gambler slapped the reins and drove toward The Yellow Slipper.

Libby huffed. What a discourteous man. He could have waited for Wade to answer or even step away from the buggy. She’d feared they’d driven over his feet, but after looking back, she saw Wade walked with no sign of a limp. She shivered as the rain soaked her. They’d be lucky to not take sick.

Harley stopped outside The Yellow Slipper, set the brake, and helped her down. “If I was you, I’d put away your proper manners and walk inside to your room. I have to return the buggy.”

One glance at Flora and Mark, and Libby knew that was exactly what they’d do. Head up, shoulders back, and dripping wet, she walked into the bar. Her aunt and the boy followed.

Inside the crowded saloon, the tinny piano competed with the thunder and pouring rain but came in a distant third. Men, most of them soaked, sent a cloud of odor smelling of unwashed bodies and moldy wool. A couple of particularly ragged ruffians harassed two of the girls who worked for Harley.

Libby shuddered at the smirks the men sent her way. She avoided their lustful eyes and focused on the stairs. Flora touched her shoulder, giving some assurance of protection. Libby was almost to the first step when a big man with ornery written all over his face stepped in front of her.

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